Paradox Inoccence Deserves No Mercy
by the empress of lala land
Summary: Set in an alternate universe - a mansion that all of Tim Burton's creations live. Sweeney wanders the halls and happens across a lonely man locked in a room alone. Sweeney Todd/Edward Scissorhands Rated for future chapters. Based off RP between K&S. ES/ST
1. A Chance Meeting

Innocence Deserves No Mercy

By: Kayani Neko and SEES

Chapter One

Many a season had passed past the window pane, and Edward had been the first to witness winter. Of all the people in this mansion, he was the most soft, the most quiet, the most… Alone.

Now it was another of the countless winters, the longest, saddest time for the gentle man. Edward's eyes watched the first snow fall, covering his green plants, his unkempt garden fade into soulless, colorless shapes. His hands made a light clink sound as they touched the glass, Edward wanted so badly just to trim the plants… Give them the life they lacked. It was such a lonely sight, his heart could barely take it.

Edward closed his eyes and sighed. The girl with soft lips, wavy blonde hair and curious brown eyes was there once more, the memory fresh from the night before. Every single night he was haunted by this face, along with the face of his father. But though his father's dying face was haunting, hers was more so. It tore at his heartstrings, made him both want to forget and treasure it. Her dress was white, but stained with blood. On her lips, precious words had been spoken. In those eyes, terror and sadness. And all Edward could think was "_No, don't be sad. Don't miss me. Be happy, love, be happy." _Edward opened his eyes to see that the snow had erased all life from the once green garden. There were only two seasons here, winter and spring. Death and life. Innocence, and…

INNOCENCE DESERVES NO MERCY

'Vast' was not the best word to describe the mansion. Neither was 'enormous.' No, this thing was massive and sprawling, ever-changing and there seemed to be no end to it, something that Sweeney found to be more and more true the more he wandered the expanse of the thing.

It was also very, very interesting.

There were rooms that one could fit only a foot in, and others so large the whole of London could sit comfortably. Some were clean and probably devastatingly bright in the light, and others were black with dirt.

'_Dirt, dirt…' _The man frowned, his memories flooding his vision once more. This person was important, so important, but he couldn't recognize her, this person most dear to him, covered in filth and moaning softly. It was only after he had made that clean line and blood had flowed in that sweeping flood-

Abruptly, Sweeney came to a stop in his explorations. Turning on his heel, he tried his best to find his way back without trouble, and of course encountered some, getting lost for about half an hour. Darkness had fallen, blanketing the place in shadows and making it seem unfamiliar, almost frightening. He began to climb the stairs, knowing that if he went high enough he would eventually find his room… find his friends.

Finding the right staircase had not been easy. Sweeney had been becoming increasingly frustrated with the mansion he lived in, but once he found the kitchen, he had made his way back alright. More or less. The walls seemed to think that it was great fun to switch around, and had him heading in the entirely wrong direction for a good ten minutes before he realized it.

As it was, he was climbing the dusty stairs, not trying to mask his footsteps. He knew other… things lived in the mansion, but they must not live close enough to him- after all, he had only ever met a few, and that was far outside his room.

_Thump. Thunk. Tump, tump. _Listening to the sound of his footfalls reminded him of the eerie yet satisfying sound of bodies falling to the stone floor, until something invaded his ears- something that sounded remarkably like blades. Razor-sharp (if you'll pardon the pun) and moving, the metal slipping over another piece of silver to create a soft 'snip,' the sound of not two, but many more.

One would have to hold at least one of those blades with each finger to make that cacophony of snips.

Now curious, and interested in seeing what could be possibly be the first living thing he had encountered that night, Sweeney turned the circular handle and stepped inside the oddest and coldest room he had been in yet.

The room was covered (absolutely _covered_) in magazine clippings, newspaper articles, and dust. There was a soft, blue light coming in from the window in the far side of the room, and sifted through holes in the wall. Every corner was dark, and turning his head slightly, he noticed that the door (and handle) were also covered.

'_Odd.'_ The sound hadn't stopped, only intensified, and frowning, Todd turned his head sharply towards the sounds, wondering what- or who- was making it. His footsteps seemed to echo as he moved forward, and the snips only intensified, confirming that he was getting warmer.

It was only until he was nearly on top of the other man (read: five feet away from) that he saw his shape, the human form and two very large eyes staring out at him from the dark. As a precaution, long fingers went to his razor, knowing that some creatures in the mansion were quite mad. He stared back, studying what he could see- a shape that seemed to fade in and out of the darkness of the room, ghostly pale skin, and the shine of blades.

Sweeney had been content with observing the other person, the frown permanently affixed to his face deepening as the sound intensified. It almost seemed dangerous, and he took one more step, staring down at… whoever this was. His eyes began to adjust, and the darkness seemed to slink back to reveal a crouched figure, with blades on all his fingers. Sweeney's mind went immediately to his friend resting against his leg, the weight of silver reassuring him.

Dear sweet merciful Jesus, those blades were _attached _to his palms! The barber nearly swallowed his tongue at this realization, trying now to calm his racing heart.

A soft, nervous voice spoke. "… Hello…" He was not prepared for the sight of this odd, odd figure, and even less prepared for when he spoke. Sweeney barely bit back a gasp, a finger trailing across the ornate design on the handle, as though to make sure it hadn't moved from its position, or to be ready to draw it at a moment's notice. The voice drifted softly, high and the word barely reached his ears. He was certain that he had started visibly, and it took a moment for him to respond.

"Hello…" He noticed the difference in their voices, his deep, older, and it was almost like the other man had never been outside the room. But he seemed on edge, and his short little breaths pervaded the silence of the room, along with the slipping of blades over one another.

When in doubt, be polite. "Pardon my intrusion."

Sweeney was certainly going to leave, as it seemed that he was intruding on his living space- indeed, it was obviously the other man's living space. He was about to turn and leave, not liking five blades pointing at him, when the most pitiful sound he had ever heard in his life came from that figure. "Don't… go…" That wasn't what stopped him, though. No, it was the fact that he had no idea about the level of sanity of this person. "I'm sorry…"

"Fine. I'll stay." He ran over the apology, not hearing it in his… not fear, nor anticipation, but a combination of the two, with a touch of curiosity. To alleviate the strange feelings, the strangeness of meeting someone, he lifted his blade from its holster, opening and closing it, over and over, not moving from his spot.

That is, until a draft, one of the coldest he had felt in years, blew through and landed a few snowflakes on his face and hair. He closed his razor and replaced it to where it normally rested, brushing the dewing droplets from his face. A shiver ran through him, and he was quickly was regretting his decision to stay.

Sweeney didn't want to sit on the floor, nor get any closer to the strange man. But, the room was very, very cold, and he wanted to go to his own room.

"Aren't you cold, sir?" _If I must stay with you, may we at least go to somewhere where it's warm?_

Sweeney watched warily as the man scooted himself in front the hole, wondering what exactly he was doing. "No… I'm used to it…" He saw him better, the light not silhouetting him but instead showing him better. "Ah!" The boy gasped lightly as he cut his face trying to get a snowflake off his face. He wore what looked like black leather, and his hair was a complete and total mess, very, very knotted and as a barber he felt the urge to fix it. He had scars all over his face, which was the only skin that showed.

"All right…" He was like a child, Sweeney observed, and watched, unsure of what to do as he cut himself. It was quite obvious, and the look that he got afterwards- apologetic, pleading, and scared, was a bit unnerving. In the back of his mind, Sweeney thought that he would never cut himself like that with his own razors, that he would never have so little control with a blade in his own hands.

"But wouldn't you rather be where it's warm?" He was getting snow all over himself, not to mention that there were too many holes pretty much everywhere for it to make much of a difference.

Questions filled his mind as the man moved his fingers, the blades snipping over one another. He didn't wait for an answer on his previous questions, wanting to examine the suspicious hands.

"May I look at your hands?"

Maybe that wasn't such a good idea to ask that. Sweeney saw that the man was a bit shorter than himself, and very, very skinny, but that didn't change the fact that he had very sharp scissors for hands. He raised his arms and held out his hands, the blades/fingers twitching and making that soft snipping. "I'm not finished." His voice seemed very quiet, and nervous.

Taking two steps forward before stopping and planting his feet equally, the younger man lifted his own hands and touched softly the wrist, beginning to support it, before gripping softly and turning it over, staring at the strings connecting the blades.

"I see that." His eyes trailed over the blades, knowing not to touch them, and making sure to keep himself out of cutting range. He turned the hand palm-down and felt against his fingers a pulse, quick and panicked, tapping a frightened beat against his fingertips.

"Why not?" Oh, curiosity.

The odd man was cold as ice, which wasn't surprising considering that he had been sitting in front of a hole when there was snow outside. Sweeney noted the difference in the sizes and in the changes in shape, and the bit of blood that rested on the tip.

"He didn't wake up."

The moment he got his answer, the barber regretted it. He didn't even have to look at his face to feel the sadness rolling off him in waves, and glanced up at his current companion. His had hung his head, and somehow it seemed as though it were only a matter of time until he was going to cry.

"Oh. I'm sorry." Not that he had gotten a clear answer. He could only guess what that meant, and lifted one finger and ran it across the top of the index blade. He made sure not to cut himself, only wanting to feel the metal on his skin. He glanced up at the impossibly anguished face in front of him, and that was enough.

"I didn't mean to offend, sir." He removed his hands, unsure of what to do with them now, touching his own blade and resting the other one at his side.

"I'm sorry." Sweeney raised an eyebrow, a bit confused. He was the one who brought the subject up, so he should be apologizing, not the other way around. He watched, almost leaning back as the hand went up a bit.

"Edward." Then, he spoke what was most obviously a name, and probably his own since it was most obviously not his. Being polite, he responded in kind, and would have shaken his hand if, well…

"Todd, Sweeney Todd." Not going to go farther into that. He lifted a corner of his mouth in what could have been a smile, if you squinted and tilted your head a bit. Edward himself smiled a small, sheepish smile in return.

Sweeney felt a bit odd, seeing them exchange smiles, something he normally didn't do. However, he would have to, as he couldn't really shake his hand. He was being stared at, he could tell, and felt quite uncomfortable beneath the scrutiny. "Um… Could you wait here a bit… please?" The man felt relief as the intense gaze shifted from him to the clippings and papers that flew around the room.

"Yes, of course." Polite as always. Sweeney watched as Edward moved around, noting the jerky, odd way of walking he had and turning his head away as he bent over. Instead, he looked at the papers skittering around the floor, leaning over to pick a few up and looked at their contents.

_BOY LEARNS TO READ WITHOUT EYES_, read one headline. Another was about a girl who played tennis without feet. And another about someone who had lost the use of their voice and gave speeches, through a machine. _'Odd.'_ Sweeney merely held them, not putting them in his pocket, and looked over to Edward.

Who seemed to be having a bit of difficulty, whatever he was attempting to do.

"If I may ask, what are you doing, sir?"

"O-oh… I…" He looked up at the man sheepishly, seeing him holding the clippings. "You said it was cold… So… But I can't pick it up." Sadly, he tried some more, sending a piece of blanket flying past his head.

"Oh!" He tried to catch it, but succeeded only in cutting his ear and a chunk of hair. He turned shyly to the man again. "Sorry."

Sweeney watched Edward as he moved and talked, becoming more and more sure that he was dealing with someone who had the mind of a child. He was becoming uncomfortable, feeling like he was intruding again. Edward reached over his head and sliced open his ear, and blood was dripping from it, only a drop or two, but it caught his attention and Sweeney couldn't take his eyes away from the sight.

"Quite alright." He didn't know to say. Or do. This was such an odd situation, an he didn't know how to handle it. "I'll be fine without it. I do have a jacket, after all." Which was true- he had donned it before leaving his room, something he was beginning to regret doing, and regret his curiosity. The papers crinkled in his hand, and he looked down again, dark eyes sweeping over the tabloids.

"Oh. Alright." Edward watched the man… He seemed uncomfortable. "I'm sorry. I'm… not used to guests." To say the very least. The boy looked down at his toes, sadly.

Well, that was obvious. The blatant shyness and sheer awkwardness of the situation made it very, very clear that he had probably never had guests in his life. Sweeney kept an eye on his… companion, glancing back at him from time to time, and instead looking at the articles in his hand. None of them were recent- indeed, all the papers had gone yellow with age, and they had holes with some clean tears.

It was obvious that Edward had cut these out himself, and Todd had half a mind to ask where he got all the newspapers and magazines when he spoke up a bit, seeming a bit more happy than usual.

"Once, he told me something…" Edward paused a bit, clearing his throat. "There once was a man from the cape, who made himself garments of crepe, when asked if they tear, he replied here and there, but they keep such a beautiful shape!" Edward smiled at the other man, thinking this was absolutely hilarious.

He stared at his hands when he spoke, pulling the words from the dregs of his memory, and then presented the happiest smile to Sweeney.

Who was completely unnerved by it all. His frown only deepened, and he was quite ready to turn on his heel and practically run back to his room. Clearing his throat, he lifted his arm and held out the clippings, a phrase running through his mind, one that he didn't say but thought about it.

"_That's all very well."_

Who said that? He couldn't remember, but it was a woman, trying to get something done. "These are yours, and if you don't mind…" Sweeney swallowed, unsure of whether he would get stabbed (even though that now seemed unlikely).

"I'll be going now." The frown hadn't disappeared, and he placed the articles on Edward's palm, before taking a few steps back and wanting to just get out that strange, freezing room.

"Wait…!" He looked up, desperation apparent in his eyes. "W… will you come back?"His eyes pleaded his case, that being his biggest weapon(so to speak), far more effective then his words ever would be.

Sweeney nearly fell back at the mental blow he was receiving from that look, regretting that he even looked back in his attempt to escape through the door. The man had let the clippings fall in a parody of snowflakes that was almost sad, and to anyone else, it was probably very disheartening. In the back of his mind, the barber huffed indignantly at that- he _had_ picked them up, after all.

"Uhm…" What to do? He didn't really want to admit it, but he was quite intrigued by this man with scissors for hands, but as it was, he was too unnerved by the turn of events to want to stay any longer.

"Sure." He frowned harder at this, not really prepared to come back to this place, but too interested to just stay away_. _He took one step back, and then another, before reaching the door handle.

"Good night." And he was out the door, closing it behind him out of habit, and taking the stairs again, taking note of where Edward's room was- that was, if it was still there and it hadn't decided to shift to the other side of the house.

He had such sad eyes. He reminded Todd of a little puppy, one who had been kicked and then turned those eyes on his master, asking why he did such a thing.

Damn. Now he really did have to go back there.


	2. An Apple a Day

Paradox - Innocence Deserves No Mercy

By: Kayani Neko and SEES

Chapter Two

Edward had awoken early, the night having given him chills worse then the wind ever could. Edward had rolled out of his small bed and began to carved the faces he remembered most clearly into the wood of his floor. The man with feathery skin and closed eyes, the girl with scared eyes and soft hair. Apart from the usual snipping, could be heard carving. He didn't… didn't want to forget. Didn't want the memory to be hazy. There was a knock at the door. "Are you awake, Edward?" A low voice called out to him.

At the knock, Edward's head snapped up, listening intently. _Todd, Sweeney Todd._ "Y-yes, please do." He called lightly, still sitting and carving the last few details of the girl's face. He had to finish before the memory slipped away…

It was odd how easily memories slipped away in this place. It was as though every day melted into the next like an unchanging blur… At least, that's how it was for Edward.

Edward heard the doorknob turn, squeaky as all hell. "What are you doing?" Seeing as he really didn't know what it was called, he said the first thing he think to say.

"Drawing." Edward had finished up the last bit of detail, and turned to smile shyly up at the looming figure that was the man.

The man stood over him, gazing at his work. "Those are very good." He offered, sounding as though he actually meant it.

"Thank you." He spoke, softly as ever. Thinking on it, he turned back the face he had just finished, trying to remember a name he never would.

"You came back." He stated happily, his voice sounding less scared. And he had, he had come back. "Mister Todd sir… Thank you." _Thank you so much._

_Snip… Snip._

"Yes I did." His voice carried with it a small bit of irritation, but he was obviously trying to mask it, so Edward left it alone, forgot it. "You're welcome." He sounded a bit awkward as he spoke, as though it was odd to say it. After a moment, the man spoke again. "How long did these take you?"

Edward turned to look down at the drawings, wondering exactly how long it _had_ taken him… "Um…" Edward really couldn't tell time. "Since I woke up." Was as close as he could get.

Edward had noticed the blades the day before, but the man seemed to be… almost drawn to them. As if they were his comfort. He wouldn't say anything… Not yet at least.

Snow had fallen in a great amount all through the night, so there were some piles built up in where holes were left exposed. Edward had slept through it all, but the snow left a hollow, lonely feeling in the pit of his stomach. He looked up to the man, who had returned, even though Edward clearly off put him the previous day. He also had the beginnings of a small heart beside the girl who he felt his heart pull towards more then any other in his dreams… because it was clear his heart belonged to her.

"Then you've worked quickly." Edward smiled, picked and making the scratchy heart more neat. He had, hadn't he? He had never tried this before, so he was happy with how it had turned out. "How long have you been in here?" The man questioned.

The question confused Edward at first. The answer obvious to him, yet confusing in it's own terms. "Always." He put simply. He could not honestly recall ever being outside this room, other then in his dreams. "I can't… Really leave." He pointed his sharp fingers towards the door. "The doorknob. I… can't open it." Edward held up his hands for clarification.

And it was true, the knob was rounded, smooth and without a lock. Edward had tried time and time again, but…

There had been no hope. All he did was create a rather unpleasant scraping noise. Edward stood and made his way to his window, gazing out longingly at the unkempt and snowed over garden. "What do you eat, then?" His brow furrowed as this question seemed to be a confusing one for him.

Edward looked at the man confused once more. "I don't." Obvious though it was to Edward, he didn't seem to realize that most people had to eat.

He knew in his dream world, he did eat but… Even there he had lived decades without anything. He looked out to the snow, which was still falling, thinking back on the night's dream, trying to clarify his own memories.

Sweeney stepped over the carvings and to the door, the creaky sound reoccurring when he pulled it open. "Come on. I'm getting you something to eat." He pushed the door open farther, making the doorway a normal rectangle and gesturing for Edward to move over there.

Edward jumped at the sound of the door, not having expected it. Edward's eyes widened in shock. "Wh-what?"

Leave…? He had always dreamed of it but… To actually leave? This was scary. Edward eyed Sweeney, showing his concern, but something about the offer made him shuffle his way to the door. He stood before the doorway, too scared to look beyond the line of his doorway. Gradually he lifted his eyes, looking into the emptiness.

There was a staircase. Edward turned his vision back to the man, unsure, of everything.

"I'm letting you out of here." Sweeney rolled his eyes and brushed past him, taking a few steps down. Not hearing that shuffle behind him, he looked back, gesturing once again with his hand. "Come on. They're only stairs." Ones that he had climbed so many times that he might as well do it in his sleep. He took two more steps, descending farther into the darkness.

Edward shuffled down a few steps before slipping, catching himself by jabbing a scissor through the wall. Edward's eyes widened. This was more dangerous then he first thought. Edward stood up and tried to pull his hand out of the wall, but it was fairly well stuck. His other hand, his scissors snipped nervously.

_Snipsnipsnipsnipsnip…_

Edward tried again, but for all he was worth, which wasn't much strength-wise, he pulled, and it budged. Barely. Edward frowned, growing more and more nervous. He was stuck.

Sweeney started to move, satisfied that he was being followed, taking steps down until he noticed that he, well… wasn't. He looked back over his shoulder to see Edward stuck in the wall. With a sigh, he went back up the stairs he had already taken and placed his hands around the other man's wrist, directing a glare towards him as he spoke.

Edward shrunk beneath that glare, sure he was being annoying. Sweeney grabbed his wrist for the second time since they'd met, and it made Edward lose track of where he was, and the situation he was in. "Brace yourself."

Brace himself? For what? After receiving an elbow to the chest and getting smashed between a wall and Mister Todd with more force then he'd ever experienced, Edward understood what he was supposed to brace himself for. He wilted to the floor, coughed and wheezing, the air having been knocked clean out of him. His head spun and words were impossible.

"Pitiful." The word slipped out before the man could stop it. Becoming a bit more impatient than he was before, Sweeney went down on one knee, making sure that he wasn't going to cut himself on those blades. He reached out and placed his hands underneath Edward's arms, lifting him up just like he used to lift his little girl.

"Get up," he commanded, placing the man on his feet and leaning him against the wall until he could catch his breath.

"S-" Cough, cough. "Sorry." Edward managed. He really was causing problems. Now he went down the stairs, staring at his feet to be sure he wouldn't fall again. "Thank you." He murmured softly, taking his first step down. He took it at a fairly normal pace, growing more comfortable with each step.

Edward could do this. He could do this. This wasn't so scary. And yet… _Snipsnipsnipsnipsnipsnipsnip…_

Which lead to another eye roll. He didn't feel any sympathy towards Edward, it being his first time, but it didn't mean that he wasn't going to help him. He was a bit rough, but he wrapped one hand around Edward's skinny little upper arm and helped him balance.

"Like I said, they're only stairs."

Edward eyed the man curiously as he grabbed him, unsure of what he was doing. Whatever it was he was doing, made him much more confident, and he was able to keep up with Sweeney with more ease. "Thank you." Edward's voice was much more happy sounding, as he felt he had overcome something great.

Something he would never have been able to accomplish on his own. He wasn't even nervously snipping anymore. "Mister Todd?" He thought to ask as they reached the end of the stair. "Where are we going?" Of course, he only thought to ask once he was all the way off the stairs and on solid ground. "Is it close?"

Mister Todd sighed heavily, turning to continue down the hall. "We're going to the kitchen. I'll fix you something to eat."

They walked down the hall, Sweeney in his long strides, and Edward in his nervous shuffles. The hall was bathed in blue light from the high windows. Edward took in all the sights, fascinated. It was all so new… Carpet! Wallpaper! Windows… This was absolutely amazing. Edward's eyes scanned all across the hallway, trying not to miss one bit of this without slowing down Mister Todd.

There was a warm light pouring into the hallway, and Edward was drawn to it. He shuffled ahead of Sweeney, and poked his head through the doorway. After his eyes adjusted, he saw something amazing.

Counters, shelves, tables and several cooking-based things. Everywhere he looked there was food. Some bright, some dull… And the smells, oh, the smells. Edward was temporarily stunned. His eyes were wide, and he inhaled through his nose… Such wonder… He couldn't even snip, he was so stunned.

The barber allowed for a good five seconds of this, before giving a quick, "Excuse me," and pushed past him, looking about for a moment. "What's catching your eye?"

Edward stepped just to the side, not taking his eyes off this fascinatingly bright place. Colors he'd never seen before outside of his dreams… Red, purple, yellow and blue…

Something had caught his eye. Something he had no idea what to call. It was round, and very shiny red. Edward stepped closer to it and bent down so he was eye level with it. "What is it…?" His voice was soft, eyes wide, excited.

Sweeney followed his new companion towards the fruit bowl, and nearly laughed at his awe. It was funny in a sad sort of way, and he reached out to pick it up. "This is an apple," he informed Edward, setting the piece of fruit on the counter in front of him, before looking around at the ingredients around him.

Edward stared at the… Apple. Its color was fantastic, and it's aroma was bewitching. A smooth smell, with a bit of a bite. Edward reached out and tried to pick it up. Of course, it rolled right out of his hands and across the counter. Edward kept at it though, chasing it all around the counter. The sound it made as it rolled seem fun as well… Edward was liking this apple already.

Even though he was being met with such difficulty, he couldn't help the smile that remained on his face. He also managed to cut up the apple pretty good.

Juice. There was juice. And a good amount of it.

Sweeney stopped what he was doing, crossing his arms with something of a smirk on his face. It was like watching a cat play with a ball of yarn, and it wasn't long before he went and chased that apple right off the counter. The barber reached one hand out and caught the red object, making a nice 'thwop' as he did. That little smirk never left his face as he took a bite of the sliced-up apple, before holding it out for Edward, who looked like a deer in the headlights.

It was only because he couldn't eat it on his own. Sweeney pressed the red skin against Edward's lips, saying, "Take a bite," encouraging him along, and it was… fun? Was that the word?

Edward eyed him, with both a startled look as well as a shy one. Edward stood up straight and chewed, a smile on his face. He hummed out his approval, as though the look on his face wouldn't be enough.

Sweeney was also chewing, swallowing his mouthful of apple quickly. It was an odd sight, a man leaning over and looking up at him and eating an apple out of his hand, looking extremely pleased with himself. The apple was a good one, crisp and juicy, and the skin wasn't tough at all, not to mention the fact that it was shiny.

"It's good, isn't it?" Edward straightened up, and Sweeney's arm followed him, holding the apple close to his face so that he could eat it easily. He let a more full smile onto his face when Edward closed his eyes. It disappeared once he opened his eyes, however, and he looked a bit impatient.

No one ever said he ever had to be nice about being nice.

Sweeney wondered as Edward struggled to get down the bit of apple he had taken, whether he should have taken more time on his own. He was, after all, his first example, and he was probably going to be imitated.

He wasn't an expert on such things, but Sweeney was pretty sure he wasn't the kind of person that someone should be imitating. "I like apples." Edward leaned forward and took another bite, taking more time to chew. After he swallowed, he spoke again. "Thank you, Mister Todd."

He watched the wonder that filled Edward's eyes, not exactly jealous, but maybe envious that he could be impressed with something so simple as a kitchen and apple.

"You're welcome, Edward." It was starting to be a better experience now that he was warm, and that Edward seemed to be under his control, more or less. He didn't find him to be so odd now, only that he was a child. The barber turned the apple around a bit, revealing an unbitten side to the other man and letting him bite into that.

Perhaps it was the absolute lack of malice that Edward held that endeared him. For someone as jaded as Sweeney Todd, this was a nice break from sharpening his knives.

Sweeney observed with a cold eye that if Edward got any happier, he was probably going to explode. He was getting a tint of color to those white cheekbones (not that he was one to talk) and for a moment, the barber was a bit sad that that apple was quickly disappearing down Edward's gullet. He watched as he ate the last bit and pulled back the core, gnawing on the remnants before tossing it.

"Well, that was…" he couldn't bring himself to say 'fun.' Instead, he cleared his throat, and took a step back, noticing how close they had been during what was going to become known as the Great Apple Exchange. "I'll make you some porridge." Without regard to Edward and neglecting to tell him he could sit on a stool or something like that, he began to move around the kitchen, pulling out a few things, things like cinnamon, brown sugar, and milk.

"What's that?" Edward wondered aloud.

"It's cornmeal, which is corn that's ground up." He actually had to force a tad of irritation into his voice, and answered with his back to the other man. His face was almost smiling, twitching between a smile and a frown. He began to cook, and in case you were wondering, no, he did not put on an apron. Sweeney Todd _is_ a man, after all.

He began to make the porridge, pouring in the meal and some milk (real men don't measure their ingredients) into a pot and mixing them until it thickened. Without further ado, he poured the hot porridge into a bowl and slopped milk, sugar and cinnamon in it, mixed it, placed a spoon in it and slid the bowl over to Edward.

He had totally forgotten about the fact that Edward hadn't even been able to pick up the apple. "Well, sit down and eat," he instructed, taking a seat across from him.

Edward did sit, though awkwardly, in the stool. He had to pull it out with his foot first, you see. Edward reached forward and attempted to grab at the spoon, and set it flying straight out of the bowl. And there he was, chasing it until it was out of his reach(he hadn't gotten out of his chair) and directly in front of Mister Todd.

Sweeney actually jumped back a bit as the spoon came flying towards him, not wanting delectable porridge all over his clothing. He watched, a sigh leaving his lips and with a expression bordering on annoyed, snatched up the spoon and ordered Edward back to his chair. Nothing had actually gotten on the spoon, but he licked it off as a precaution anyway, before moving to a spot closer to Edward's seat of choice.

Now he sat at the other man's right, and dipped the spoon into the steaming porridge, before lifting it just like he did with the apple. "Open wide," he said crossly, waiting for Edward to open his mouth so he could feed him once again.

He obediently took a bite and immediately choked. It was so hot, it burned. Edward coughed and coughed, sticking his tongue out, it burned so bad.

Once again, Sweeney jumped back, astounded by the reaction he got. Wasn't it good? What he had off the spoon wasn't bad, but it wasn't bad enough to warrant choking… Unlike some very unsavory meat pies. For a moment, he was insulted, until he realized there was steam rising from the bowl, and what happened.

"I apologize. I forgot to cool it," he explained, not liking the hurt eyes turned on him, asking 'why would you do that?' Edward still had no control over how much emotion he poured out, and to avoid it, Sweeney dipped the spoon in once more, blowing on it for a moment before trying a bit. Finding it to be of satisfactory temperature and flavor, he held it out, his "Open wide," much softer this time.

Edward stared at it a bit, unsure. But once he looked into those eyes, he knew better then to argue before he even said anything. He took the bite. Edward's eyes widened. He tried to chew, but there wasn't anything really to chew. He swallowed.

He looked up at Mister Todd, the look in his eye surprised and satisfied. "Porridge isn't bad." He stated matter-of-factly. "I like it." He smiled, smelling more and wanting more.

Sweeney gave Edward a stern look, possibly looking sterner than he intended due to the frown that was constantly carved into his face. He succumbed rather quickly and took a bite, and he watched as his face brightened up with it, moving it around in his mouth as though to figure out what exactly he was supposed to do with it. He nearly prompted him, but stopped himself, thinking that he would ruin it.

"Well, it isn't hard to make," Sweeney stated in response, doing what he did before with the second spoonful- blow, test, and then feed. "But then again, you would probably have to come to me to get someone to make it." Not only did he think that Edward didn't know what he put in it, but he also thought that the man would probably set himself on fire if he tried to make something.

Another spoonful. Sweeney realized he was eating half every one, but didn't particularly care.

"How would I find you…?" Edward was unnerved by the notion of moving about this place by himself.

Sweeney would have tilted his head, but instead he cooled another bite of porridge, tested it, and then fed Edward the part that he hadn't eaten. Not once did it occur to him that the two of them were swapping spit, mostly because his mind was on other things. He tried to remember where exactly he had placed Edward's room on his little map in his head, and nearly forgot to cool a bite.

Yanking the hot spoon away from Edward, he blew on it, and then gave it to him. "If I'm not mistaken, my room is a floor above yours." Not that he had any intention of letting Edward out on his own just yet. He was so clumsy and the stairs had given him so much trouble that it seemed going them alone was just inviting a broken neck.

"I'm sure you could get my attention somehow."

"I wouldn't want to be a bother though…" Edward trailed off, thinking on how he would go about this. Maybe he could go on his own, it wasn't so scary out here! There were apples, and porridge.

Sweeney popped a bite of porridge through Edward's lips as he was thinking, noticing that he was reaching the end of the bowl and feeling the same way he had felt about the apple. He unconsciously began to make the spoonfuls less heaping, making them last longer, until he was scraping the bottom of the bowl.

"Why don't I come to you, Edward? Unless, of course, you're busy." Which he knew would most definitely not happen. Edward had absolutely nothing to do up there and Sweeney knew it, which meant he could probably drop in on the other man any time he wanted, which was beginning to look more and more often than he originally planned.

The barber took the bowl and stood, placing it in the sink and resolving to deal with the mess later. After all, he was now going to have to deal with Edward going up stairs instead of down.

Shiver.

"Busy?" He honestly couldn't even imagine himself as busy. "Even if I was…" He swallowed, his mouth now dry. "I wouldn't mind."

"Well, I'll be sure to knock," Sweeney assured his companion, turning on the faucet for a moment before turning it off again, the experience for the day being a bit too much for someone who was normally alone for the majority of the day. He didn't even think about how overwhelmed Edward may have become, and instructed him to stand, himself on the other side of the kitchen and watching him get up.

"Come. All sorts of unsavory characters roam these halls at night." Not only did Sweeney not want to run into the strange things and people, but he could only imagine Edward's reaction to them, especially to being startled, and did _not _want his face to be sliced into little pieces when the other man started.

"Okay." Edward knew there were others, but he'd never met anyone other then Mister Todd. "Do you wander every night?" Edward had to ask, but he didn't know how to ask any other question.

Sweeney began to lead the way, used to this path (and only this path, as last night had proved) in either night or day and assuming that Edward would keep up. After all, he had done a pretty decent job last time- something that is admitted begrudgingly- and he felt as though this would be no different. It would take a good ten minutes to get to the stairs, though, and it seemed Edward was in the mood for small talk.

Kind of.

"No, I do not." What had happened last night was a strictly one-time adventure that he did not wish to embark upon again, and besides, what he had found was proving to be a bit of entertainment. It was a bit odd for Edward to actually speak up for himself without being prompted, but it seemed that he was getting used to the other man's company very quickly.

"I sharpen my razors." He had almost let 'friends' slip from his tongue, but held it back, his gaze sliding over the floral and fruity wallpaper and wondering who exactly was mad enough to put such a design on the walls.

"Your razors?" Edward hurried so he'd be walking beside him rather then trailing behind. "What are those for?" He was actually very interested.

Sweeney didn't really notice or care if Edward was having trouble, only that he was keeping up. He hadn't meant to let the words part from his lips so nicely, but he reached down and let his thumb move over the handle of the razor on his leg, and it had just happened.

At last, something he could actually talk about! "They're for shaving faces, and trimming hair." _And for slitting throats, but you don't need to know that._ He pulled it out, a pleasant sigh falling from his lips unintentionally as he opened, the singing of his friend opening soothing his nerve.

"Look at this one, see the edge?" He continued to walk, his pace slowing a bit, being a bit more careful now that he had a sharp object in his hand. "They must be kept sharp at all times, or else the customer could be cut."

"You shave people, cut their hair?" Edward warmly smiled up at Mister Todd. "I do too." His voice was peaked with joy, though he did try to disguise it as interest, he wasn't good at masking his emotions.

Sweeney had to choke back a condescending laugh, and instead stole a glance at the bird's nest that sat atop Edward's head. He raised one eyebrow instead, and closed his razor with a snap.

"I'm sure you do," he replied, his voice full of condescending disbelief. He slipped the instrument back into its holster and began to take the stairs, going up about five steps before remembering that Edward might not be able to take the steps as quickly as he could. He turned around, looking down to see what progress his companion made, if any at all.

"I also style hedges and groom dogs…" Edward wasn't too sure about the tone in Mister Todd's voice.

Sweeney frowned as he watched Edward's progress on the stairs, noting the trip at the second step, and how much he was concentrating on making it up. He frowned at his reply, wondering where Edward had actually groomed these dogs and whatnot if he had never been outside his room, but then again, he himself didn't

really know how the events that he always dreamed of really happened or not.

As Edward reached his stair, the barber repeated his action from earlier, gripping the other man around the upper arm and steadying him, watching to make sure that if he did fall, he could get out of the way in time and not get skewered.

"I… Can picture you doing that." Edward smiled at the picture in his head. "It seems to be perfect for you." Edward could just see him, using those razors he so obviously was fond of.

Sweeney was a bit surprised that Edward was still on that tangent, and nearly stumbled himself at the embarrassed little sentence. The words were heartfelt, and it was something that he was completely unused to.

"I _am_ a barber," he remarked, watching Edward's feet. He chose his profession for a reason, mostly because he liked to do that sort of thing, to trim and style other people, and himself. The other reason was his fascination with knives, all sorts of them, which was honestly probably why he was sticking around Edward as long as he had.

However, now he was planning to come back tomorrow, for a reason completely different than his hands.

They finally reached Edward's room, and Edward felt an odd sad feeling. Not because of what Mister Todd had said, but… Because he could feel the day coming to and end. "Barber…" Edward said the word, he wanted to remember. "Mister Sweeney Todd, the barber." Edward smiled. It sounded so right, he couldn't think of anything to improve the ring of it.

What was Edward? Edward… He didn't even have a last name. Didn't have a profession… And just yesterday he'd met his first friend. Edward. Just… Edward.

Sweeney let go of Edward's arm as they reached the landing and his room, making sure that he wasn't going to fall as they reached their destination. As they entered the room, Sweeney cast a wary glance around the room, making sure that no one had slipped inside to startle them- which could be fatal.

He turned around at his title, humble as it was, wondering why exactly he had been summoned before realizing that Edward was just testing out the sound of it. "Yes, of Fleet Street." That was it. The sound of someone else saying pulled that part up from the dregs of his memories, and he nearly started at the sound of those words falling from his own lips.

He turned to Sweeney, eyes nervous. "Will you come back again…?" He worried softly. His nervous thoughts translated to his face, so he looked away, not wanting to look so pathetic.

Sweeney wasn't going to admit it, but he was most definitely going to come back to this place more than once, not only to examine the glistening blades that made up Edward's hands, but to teach him a little about the world outside his room.

"Yes, I will." It was not really reassuring as condescending, because really. Generally one didn't let someone out of their room and then just leave them in there. He was a cruel man, but not that cruel. Edward dropped his eyes, which was just fine, but that didn't mean the emotions didn't roll off him in waves anyway.

It was getting dark, and after staring at the window for a moment, the man went to the door. "See you tomorrow," he said, off-hand, before stepping out and shutting the door behind him. This time, it was not an accident but the fact that Edward would probably end up a broken pile of bones if he was out on his own that he did this, a precaution against self-inflicted harm.

Edward perked up, happily looking at the now closed door. "Tomorrow." He repeated, a smile playing across his features like a happy child. Tomorrow. Edward went over and sat on the edge of his bed, smiling giddily.

Mister Todd wanted to come back, Edward could feel it. He wondered if they'd go outside again, maybe eat more apples. Tomorrow, he repeated in his head, tomorrow.

Sweeney took the steps a bit more jauntily than the previous night, ready to get into his room. The whole had been a bit more than strange, but interesting as well. He placed his hand on the knob to his room, and feeling a stickiness against the metal on his fingers, and frowned.

"What is that?" The words were soft, and he brought the tips t his lips, tongue flicking out to taste what was on them. Was it sap? A sweetness touched his tongue, and he realized that it was apple juice, from when he had fed Edward.

"Hm." He stepped inside and went through his normal routine of getting ready for bed, not sure when he would wake up and be ready for another odd experience in the morning.


	3. A Day Of Many Firsts

Paradox - Innocence Deserves No Mercy

By: Kayani Neko

Chapter Three

The bed really was too small for the boy, but he didn't know enough to realize this. He was curled around himself, scissors hanging off the bed and snipping lightly in his sleep, as though he was dreaming something pleasant, like a puppy running in his sleep.

Edward wasn't dreaming something pleasant though. He dreamed he was seeing her face once more, seeing her turn, her bloody shirttail that last of her he would ever see. _Don't go…_

Edward had begun to slowly slip back into the conscious world, images slipping from both mind and memory. He stirred a bit, opening his eyes.

Mister Todd was here.

Edward blinked, unsure he was seeing properly. "Mister Todd…?" Edward's sleepy soft voice called out his name. He rolled out of his bed, landing neatly on his feet, having practiced this move countless times.

Sweeney hadn't heard Edward wake up, and the thump of feet behind him made him jump. He rose to his feet rather quickly, turning around to see Edward standing. "Yes, what is it?" He gave a little shake of his head, trying to calm his racing heart. Todd hated being startled, because in his work, that meant a cut on someone's face, and out of it, it generally meant death for the perpetrator.

Edward yawned a bit, sleep still lingering. He turned to look at Mister Todd again, to see that, yes, he was there. "Good morning." Edward smiled a bit, shyly. He had hoped to be awake at least before the man had gotten there.

As a force of habit, Edward hobbled over to the window to over look his garden. The snow had melted, so now he could see the wildly overgrown hedges and poorly kept flowers. Edward looked longingly at them, his scissors snipping emptily. A small _clink_ signified his usual tapping at the glass.

Sweeney gave a nod and a quick "Morning," he stepped over to the window as well, following his gaze. "Would you like to go out there today?" If he had never been in the kitchen, then he had probably never been outside, either.

Edward's eyes widened. He turned to look at Mister Todd, awe on his face. "R-really….?" His stomach was in his throat and his heart was beating a million miles a minute. Even some color found its way to the boy's face. He could go there?!

He looked out over the unkempt shrubs and flowers, his gaze drawn to the daisies for some reason. The entire garden was overgrown, of course, as no one in the mansion really wanted to tend to it as far as he could tell.

"Why don't we go now?" Might as well get into the warmth for a moment to keep his fingertips from falling off. Sweeney stepped away from the window and took quick strides to the door, the scene much like it was last time. "There's plenty of daylight left." Time was odd here, and night sometimes fell extremely quickly. With nothing to do besides sharpen his razors, Sweeney had noticed all the signs.

Edward was at Sweeney's side before he so much as knew it. Had he had a tail… It would have been wagging. He would finally get to trim them! After all these year! Edward was so excited, his breathing was high in his chest, and his small smile made his eyes look positively sparkly.

"Okay, I can go now." Edward tried to keep his voice stable. His scissors were snipping like mad, he was so excited.

Edward had no problem clearing the stairs, having practiced some last night. He met with Sweeney and eyed the wide double doors before him. He couldn't so much as speak he was so excited.

The barber heard the excited hands snipping behind him, and opened the doors with a bit more of a wait than he probably should have. It was just the kind of person he was, and he liked seeing those twinkling eyes dim just a bit as he pretended to think about it.

So with a sigh, Sweeney opened the doors, and stepped out of the way. After all, it was Edward's first time, and he would probably be so excited that he'd run right out there. The taller man, on the other hand, was not as impressed with the outdoors.

Edward stood in a bit of shock at the sight before him. What from his window looked like small brush was towering hedges, a field of flowers… It was the most absolutely beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Edward shuffled slowly, having to forced his legs to move, and his mouth hung open loosely. He walked around in circles, wanting to take everything in.

After a bit, he stopped and looked back at Mister Todd. "Thank you, sir, thank you so much…" He looked back out to the plants, to pick out his first project.

Leaning against the doorway, the man watched as Edward tottered around the overrun garden, the wonder on his face a bit too much to handle. Sweeney, on the other hand, was duly unimpressed, and took a moment to close the doors, making sure they weren't locked and they couldn't get back in.

Honestly, it looked as though Edward wouldn't mind at all if he got locked outside. The gratitude and awe flowed from him, and the barber was determined not to be affected by it. It was hard, but he managed, waving a hand from where he was at those heartfelt thanks. Really, all he wanted was for Edward to turn around so he could let the twitch that was threatening to infect his face and turn it into a full-blown smile.

And he did. Sweeney let a small grin onto his face, watching him try to decide what to inspect first. All would be well as long as Edward didn't feel the need to hug him or something equally ridiculous.

Sweeney was not prepared for Edward to disappear behind a bush, and with a small amount of alarm, followed him until he was in sight again. There, the pale man began to work, slicing at the bush and transforming into something Sweeney hadn't thought possible. Not being an artistic man, he saw a bush as a, well, bush. He didn't have the imagination to transform it into something else. He made sure he was well out of the way of clippings, and watched until it was done, before stepped up and nearly blinding himself on the brightness of Edward's smile.

"You've got bits in your hair," he remarked, and as someone who groomed people's faces and hair for a living, it bothered him immensely. With a soft sigh, he trained his dark eyes on the mess and began to pick out the green that littered Edward's hair. The leaves went to join their cut fellows on the ground, and he concentrated as he worked, uncomfortable next to such a happy person.

Sweeney was concentrating, pulling them out without yanking out the hair that they had landed themselves in. "Thank you." He could feel Edward look at him, the unintentionally heavy gaze weighing down on him. It was almost nice to use less force than usual, and dare he say it, be gentle with another person. His arms relaxed just a bit once Edward started to look around at the other hedges, relieved to be without such scrutiny.

He pulled out the last few bits and stepped back, surveying his work. Edward looked like he did when he first come to get him, without green in his hair like a ridiculous imitation of a wreath. "Go on," he permitted, stepping aside and observing the hand-bush.

Sweeney had barely began to see the lines in the palm when he heard the furious snipping of Edward's blades on shrubbery once more. He turned around, watching him work, a bit offended that all the work he had just done to pull the leaves out was wasted as the man kept at it, slicing up the leaves as though he had an agenda against them.

This time, he resolved to wait until Edward was completely finished with his little trimming spree until he began to clean up his hair. He watched, impressed (silently) at the speed that Edward worked, and it wasn't long until all the hedges were transformed into something other than just leaves.

"Are you quite finished?" he asked Edward's back, noting that his... clothing was also covered in the greenery.

Edward turned and nodded, smiling contently. He bowed and shook out his hair, several leaved falling out. When he lifted his head, some of his hair was now in his face, wavy locks that spun down from the mass that was his hair. He looked over to where Sweeney stood, looking indignant and impatient.

Edward shuffled over to Mister Todd, stopping at a bush of flowers. He snipped a daisy, and then held it out to the older man without a word, only a smile.

Sweeney frowned, ultimately tired of being outside as Edward shook himself, and then turned in the opposite direction of the double doors. He just wanted to get where it was warmer, having suffered too many cold winters in London for being outside to be a nice experience. He watched and he knelt, and then stood again, before turning around and holding out a flower.

It was a daisy. _I been thinking flowers, pretty daisies, to brighten up the room..._The phrase popped into his head at the realization of the type of flower before it was gone, like an errant breeze. The man felt the temperature of his cheeks go up a tad at the innocent gesture being offered to him, and he took the flower from Edward's hand, his voice not as strong as he would have liked.

"Th-thank you." He kept his eyes off the other man, remembering a market full of flowers, and a woman carrying a baby. He stood awkwardly, averting his gaze and feeling the need to brush away those infernal leaves once more, but he could wait, couldn't he?

No. Sweeney reached out and brushed away a few of the leaves, before stopping abruptly, the stem of the daisy heavy in his palm. Turning on his heel, the barber made his way to the doors and opened them, calling, "Come, let's go inside," over his shoulder so he wouldn't have to look at that face again.

As expected, Edward followed after him like a little puppy, and Sweeney was glad for that, at least. "Okay. Where are we going next?" Edward wondered aloud, knowing they probably weren't heading back to his room just yet.

He held open the door and left Edward pass through before stepping in himself, shutting it behind them and wondered idly which odd figures would be angry if he had left it open.

"We'll go to my room. You need to get those things out of your hair." And it went without saying that it would really be Sweeney pulling leaves out of his hair. He frowned and brushed a few times on Edward's collar and shoulders, taking of leaves and littering the floor with them, before he was satisfied with the results. He turned to get to the stairs, the daisy clutched in his hand, not in his pocket like some might have placed it.

"Didn't you say you live near me?" Sweeney began to take the stairs, listening to the soft and interested voice behind him. It made him slow down a bit, to make sure he wasn't losing Edward, and responded easily, not completely forgetting the flower in his hand, but something close to it.

"Yes, I believe I live on the floor above you," he said, his British accent making him drawl a bit on the words. They were climbing easily, and not for the first time did Sweeney wish there was a way to get from level to level of the mansion without actually climbing stairs. They passed Edward's room and went higher, until they were at Sweeney's room, and he opened the door to reveal it.

It was small, to say the least. There was a large window in the triangular roof, and the light fell on a brown-red leather chair. Behind it stood a sort of vanity, with three small mirrors, and a bed in corner.

"Take your seat," he said, gesturing to the chair, indicating that he wanted to start getting the leaves out of Edward's hair.

Sweeney nearly told Edward that he meant the chair and not the floor, but the man headed to the correct destination, and sat in his barbering chair. He was looking around, and after a moment of this, the man reached out and held his head still. "Keep still," he ordered, before beginning to work.

Grooming someone was oddly therapeutic, and the barber began to think for a moment that he should get a comb and go at it. However, after a second, that thought seemed to be a bad idea when he spied the irreversible knots in Edward's hair. So he placed one hand on the side of the man's head, to make sure he didn't flinch too hard, while the other one worked.

Odd. For once, there was someone in his chair whom he didn't want to cut their throat.

Edward most certainly did have a lot of leaves in his hair. Sweeney picked away, and the amount of green on black was beginning to diminish somewhat. The other man had gone rigid at his command, but he still felt the need to keep his hand on the side of his face. Some people were more jumpy than others, and he still wasn't quite sure if Edward was going to spring up for some reason or another.

Inspecting the other man's hair, Sweeney ran his fingers through it as best he could a couple times, making sure that there weren't any leaves hiding beneath the knots, tilting the other man's chin this way and that, brushing the leaves off his shoulders, running his finger down the back of Edward's neck to dislodge a few stray leaves.

There it was- the jerk that he was certain would happen once he put a metaphorical toe over the line. Sweeney felt fortunate that he was touching the side of Edward's head and holding him in place, otherwise the start might have been a lot bigger.

"You have leaves back here," he lied, only giving Edward half the truth. In fact, the odd man had only a few, which he had managed to dislodge with a sweep of his thumb the first time. He drew it over again, feeling the softness of the man's skin, not unlike a woman's, unmarred by scars or other blemishes. As it was, he was finished there, and it took him a moment to step around.

Edward was sitting much like he slept, with his scissors up to his chin. The blades were dyed green from their earlier work, and the frown that he had placed on his face upon stepping out from behind the chair deepened. The barber reached to his side and pulled his handkerchief from its clasp, and bending down on one knee, began to wipe away the plant juice all over Edward's blades in long, clean strokes.

"O-okay." Sweeney glanced up at the little stutter he heard, thinking that it was not only a little odd, but unlike Edward. He seemed to have gotten used to his company pretty quickly, and only stuttered when he was frightened or startled. So far. Following that line of thought, he realized that Edward must have no idea what he was doing, or why.

"You need to keep your blades clean," he explained quietly, the frown while not falling from his face softening a bit. He tilted his head as he worked, wiping from the top of the blade all the way down, repeating the action a couple times. "If they cut with dirt on them, they can infect the cut, and the entire face if left alone."

"Oh…" Sweeney handled the blades with great care, making sure he didn't cut himself on them. He moved from the right hand to the left, making sure that he eradicated every bit on green on the cold metal before he stood up.

"Alright, I'm done." he announced, indicating that Edward should get up now. Those blades were quivering just a little bit, clinking against each other from time to time. He went over to his vanity behind the chair and placed the now-stained cloth on the wood surface.

Edward stood up, following after the man, looking at his now clean blades. That's when Edward saw it. A picture of a rather odd looking figure standing beside Mister Todd. Edward blinked, confused. He shuffled closer, only to see the picture move.

Edward reached out and poked at it. It made a clink, similar to the type of clink that his blades made against his window. Edward started a bit, confused. The picture was mimicking his every move. Edward reached to himself now, and the picture did just that. Closer… "Ah…!" Edward had cut his face yet again. And… So did the man in the picture. Oh. This man… Was him. A reflection?

Sweeney frowned, quite confused at Edward's reaction. Had he never seen a mirror before? With the way that he moved around it, it seemed that was the case. He let him discover what it was, one eyebrow lifting just a bit as he cut himself. _Good thing I cleaned those blades first._

Edward gave up on the reflection, and moved onto the wide, wall-window next. You could see the whole sky, and Edward lost himself in it. Though it was cloudy and murky looking, it was still… Awe inspiring.

Sweeney, on the other hand, was not as enamored with the clouds. He glanced up at them once, saying, "It's going to rain soon." That was the thing about spring- with all the flowers and sun, the sky poured its heart out onto the earth during the night.

As it was, with Edward in his room, the barber was strangely uncomfortable, wanting to fidget now that he had nothing to work on. Uneasily, his fingers traced over his friend once more, wanting to do something, something other than tear open the man's throat. He simply didn't know what to do with himself.

"Could I… Have get another apple?" Edward spoke hopefully, his eyes glistening, remembering how delicious it had been yesterday.

Sweeney wanted more than anything to get out of the small space, and gave a curt nod, quite ready to leave. For a moment, he stopped at his vanity and pulled a fresh handkerchief from a drawer, and clipped it by his belt.

"We can go now, if you like," he informed the other man, pulling open his door, the sound a lot less like a springs crying out in pain, and more like a well-oiled swing. Without checking to see if Edward was following him (he knew he would, his little experience of the man telling him so), he began to make his way down the stairs, trailing one hand on the railing.

It was a quiet trip to the kitchen, to be sure. Sweeney was not a very talkative person, and as long as Edward didn't stumble on his heels, he didn't say anything. As they reached the kitchen, the barber noticed an odd, familiar smell, and opened the door with caution. After all, odd creatures came out of the woodwork when night fell, and it seemed one was currently occupying the space.

Stepping in, Sweeney found that it was only Mrs. Lovett, making those horrific pies in the oven. "Good evening, Mrs. Lovett," he said cordially, listening to Edward shuffle in behind him. With a quick, "Wait here," he stepped over to the fruit bowl, pulling out an apple, shining it with the sleeve of his shirt before waving at Edward to sit down.

"Oh, Mister T! Been such a long time, it 'as." She smiled, and then caught Edward in her sight. "Hold on now. Who's this?" She hiked up her dress and made her way until she was just in front of Edward.

Edward found this woman very intimidating, but… she seemed friendly at least. "E-Edward…" He spoke softly, his nerves getting the better of him.

"Well, aren't you a sweet'art!" She beamed and put her hands to her chest, as though to steady her beating heart. "'Ow would you like a pie, love?"

Sweeney had been getting the apple when Mrs. Lovett took it upon herself to get acquainted with Edward. He reached the pair as she suggested pie, and he couldn't stop his eyes from widening just a fraction. He remembered the horror of her pies, be they her regular ones, or ones with that 'special' ingredient.

"He would like an apple, Mrs. Lovett," Sweeney answered for Edward, because even with how cruel he was, he wasn't going to subject Edward to that on his third taste of food. With a look that told her he wasn't up for her shenanigans, the man held up the piece of fruit to Edward's lips, prompting him to agree.

"Wouldn't you, Edward?"

The woman had raised both an eyebrow and the corner of her lips. "Um… Yes." Edward reached forward and took a bite, nervously. The woman was staring him down as though he was a mouse and she was a cat.

Sweeney grinned in triumph on the inside as Edward took a bite, pleased that he was being listened to instead of Mrs. Lovett. However, the woman had that devious smirk on her face, like she knew something he didn't, and in the company of Edward, he found it quite unnerving.

"Well, that's all very nice, but…" She could sense just how this situation was, and found it fun. "'Ow 'bout we get you some clothes, darling? Can' 'ave you run around in yer skivvies all day, can we?" She turned and made her way to the back room of the kitchen, giving Mister Todd a mischievous look as she went. _Oh, this is too fun._ She thought to herself.

The barber nearly dropped the apple from the other man's lips, fingers tightening around the fruit. "He has clothing on!" It came out indignant instead of furious as he had intended, speaking hotly as she sauntered off in that knowing way of hers. Really, the very idea.

Edward was confused by all of this. "Um… What are "skivvies"?" Edward asked Mister Todd, very confused by this point. He reached forward and took another bite though… He liked apples.

Mrs. Lovett returned, a few articles of clothing in her hand, she dropped them on her floury counter, lifting up a pair of pants to Edward, to see if they fit. "Right, I think these'll work just fine." She smiled at Edward, who seemed very intimidated. _Snip. Snip. Snip._

Sweeney couldn't help the quickening of his breathing, the thought of someone running around half-naked extremely embarrassing, even if it wasn't himself. He glared viciously at Mrs. Lovett's back as she rummaged around, and would have gripped his razor if he wasn't holding onto the apple.

"She means underwear," he breathed, lifting one hand to massage at his temples. Why was he the one to explain these things? The woman returned and plopped clothing onto the counter, and Sweeney huffed and averted his eyes. That directed his gaze onto Edward's hands, snipping slowly. With a reinforced glare, he whipped his head up to look at her, desperately wanting to leave.

"You're frightening him." As if it wasn't obvious.

"Oh, please! Let me at least give 'im some clothes, will you? The boys needs something besides that bit." She turned back to Edward. "Don't mean to scare you, sweetie," She handed him the clothes. "Well, you get dressed and I'll get you some cookies. Made 'em this morning. Good thing too, didn't know I'd meet such a cute lil thing like yourself." She smiled and ruffled his hair before turning and heading back into the other room.

The barber nearly smacked his forehead in disbelief as Edward inspected his own clothing, after he had said that he was dressed. Mrs. Lovett most certainly knew how to get on his nerves, and it seemed that it was now her single objective in life. With a growl, the man snatched the clothing out of Edward's hands after placing the apple on the counter.

"That woman is an abomination," he announced, but the look in Edward's eye at the word 'cookie' he couldn't just leave. The man looked so curious about the treat that he sighed and told him that he may have one, and then they were leaving. He wanted nothing more than to keep out of the company of Mrs. Lovett.

"Is she really bad…?" Edward looked to where the woman had left. "She seems nice." Just as Mister Todd seemed kind. Edward simply was not capable of noticing her obviously ulterior motives.

"Yes, she is," Sweeney replied vehemently, wanting to leave. He wished that he could, but his chances of escape were ultimately ruined by the look in Edward's eyes.

Mrs. Lovett made her way back into the room, plate full of cookies in hand. "What's this? Didn't get dressed yet?" Then she noticed the clothes in Mister Todd's arms. "Oh, I see 'ow it is." She sent a very mischievous look to Mister Todd, as though she knew more about what he was up to then he did.

The smell of fresh baked cookies wafted through the air, and he watched the scene unfold before him. "He is already dressed," he informed her once more, wanting to grind his teeth together.

"Are those… Um… C-cookies?" Edward was still unnerved by the woman, but she was so nice, he tried to get over it.

"Yes, love, they are. 'Ave you never 'ad a cookie?" She smiled sadly before setting the plate down and grabbing a cookie. She offered it to him as Mister Todd had offered the apple, sending him a look like; _Ha, see, you aren't the only one who can 'elp 'im now are you?_

Seeing Mrs. Lovett do what he normally did, bending over and poking the cookie against Edward's lips made him more than a little angry. How dare she? Sweeney fumed silently, glaring at them both, the look not softening as Edward's face lit up. After all, the expression was not directed towards him.

Edward took the bite, chewing and enjoying the flavor. This was unlike anything he'd eaten up until this point. It was sweet, warm and… Almost fluffy. He smiled as he chewed, humming his approval.

"Well, aren't you a doll? Now love, you can't 'ave cookies without milk, now can you?" She smiled and made her way to the icebox, pulled out a pitcher before heading to get a glass. She poured it, ignoring the look from Sweeney she was getting.

Edward wasn't so good at ignoring Mister Todd. He bowed his head once he saw the look he was getting, the cookie beginning to taste sour in his mouth. Had he done something wrong…? Why was Mister Todd angry…?

Mrs. Lovett on the other hand was singing to herself as she worked, something about foul tasting pies and poor business.

Sweeney tried his hardest to not let his glare drop as Edward turned hurt and confused eyes on him, but it was to no avail. He let it fall a little but not enough for Edward to lose that look. Once Mrs. Lovett had poured the glass of milk, the barber reached out and snatched it out of her hand, ready to take control of the situation once more.

"Drink this," he murmured, his expression softening to something a far cry from a smile, but most definitely not a frown. He knew Edward wouldn't be able to do it himself, and placed one hand softly on the back of his head, before tilting the glass to his lips, making sure he understood what to do with it.

Oh, he could just _feel_ the infernal woman's eyes on him, but instead he concentrated on Edward, making sure he didn't choke.

Sweeney watched as Edward drank, making sure that he wasn't choking and dribbling the milk all over himself. He caught the rather triumphant and dreamy look Mrs. Lovett was giving him, and whipped a glare in her direction. She should know with just a glance at the state of Edward's hands that he couldn't do it himself, and he didn't really trust her with any sort of food, cookie notwithstanding.

"There you go," the barber murmured softly, watching as Edward slurped down the last of the milk. He seemed to be enjoying it, even if he couldn't breathe as well- his face was turning a shade pinker with lack of oxygen, or at least as how Sweeney saw it. He pulled the glass away from his lips, removing his hand a bit too slowly, placing it on the counter.

"Are you ready to leave?"

"Oh, come now! We've only just met, let me at least send the boy with some cookies." She held out the entire plate to Edward, smiling like mad. "Alright, 'bout time I headed off for bed as well I suppose." She leaned forward and on her tippy-toes to kiss Edward's head. "Night love, night Mister T." She giggled her whole way back to her room.

Edward was beside himself. He had no idea how to react. So… He just snipped nervously, before turning his wide and surprised eyes on Mister Todd.

For some reason, watching Mrs. Lovett affectionately smack her lips on Edward's forehead made Sweeney's hands curl into angry fists. He gave her his most angry glare, and she just brushed it off with a giggle, which made him even more angry. Without a word of farewell, he turned on his heel and pushed open the kitchen door, moving quickly through the hallways, the clothing ready to rip with the tension he had put on them.

How dare she? Better yet, why would he let her do that, especially after Sweeney's obvious dislike for her in general? Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he knew it wasn't Edward's fault, but still! He could have leaned back or done, well, something to avoid that!

"Um… Mister Todd, sir…?" Edward nervously called after him, having to practically run to keep up with the infuriated barber.

Sweeney stopped in his tracks, whipping around with an angry "What?" before catching sight of the expression on Edward's face. That caused the angry glare to melt off his face into something that was reminiscent of when he had given him milk. His gaze slid away, but that didn't mean it wasn't burned into his mind.

"I'm sorry. I-I lost my temper." To say the least. "I'm not angry with you." Kind of. As they began to move again, Sweeney breathing a bit more normally, he felt like he could say this without sounding like a prat.

"Just don't let her do that to you again." Not only did he not trust Mrs. Lovett, but she would corrupt Edward and turn him into something like her if left alone. Sweeney shuddered to think of it.

Edward nodded his head sadly, feeling as though he'd really done something horrible. "I'm sorry..." He spoke in a sad, soft voice, not having meant to anger the barber. "But... What did she do wrong...?" Edward didn't even know what she did do, aside from startle him. "I mean... What is that?" He was very confused by it all.

Sweeney nearly smacked his palm to his forehead at Edward's question. Why him, of all people? Why was he the one who had to explain this?

As it was, however, it seemed he had no choice. "It was a kiss. She kissed you. And while proper kisses are on the lips, she kissed you like a friend." Oh, the intricacies. Oh, the embarrassment. "That woman is not your friend, and she won't be." The word woman was spit out vehemently, and the man resisted putting his foot down on the staircase harder. "Next time she does it, try to avoid her." As though her kisses were poisonous.

Edward listened intently. A kiss. Something that friends did? Edward felt his heart beat a bit faster at the thought. He took note of the "avoid her" bit, not wanting to upset Mister Todd again, but…

He couldn't think well past _a kiss_. He kept his gaze on the floor, thinking to himself quietly. He had to ask. "Would you… kiss me?" Edward eyed him curiously. Did Mister Todd consider them friends?

Sweeney almost stopped in his tracks at that. In London, that sort of question would have gotten you shot, but he had to remind himself that this wasn't London, and Edward had no idea what he was asking. The very thought of it made color rise to his cheeks, mostly because Edward was a grown man, like himself.

"Well, you see, men generally don't... do that sort of thing." There, that should do. Perhaps Edward would just accept it for what it was and drop it, but for some reason, it felt like impending doom to let those words explain it away.

"Oh…" Edward bowed his head, saddened. "I see…" So only women could kiss? How sad… He hoped he'd be able to see if Mister Todd liked him, how foolish of him. Edward was at this point staring at his feet, deep in thought and in sadness. "I'm sorry…" He really was a fool, wasn't he?

They had climbed the stairs far enough to reach Edward's room, and it only took one look at the disappointed face for Sweeney to want to reverse his decision. That resolution lasted him a good three seconds after the other man spoke, and he opened his door, a bit uneasy with a speaking of rusty springs.

"It's alright." A nervous clearing of the throat followed, and they were on the landing. Time to make nice... "Some men do." Sweeney reached up one hand to push Edward's hair out of the way, before placing his lips over the spot Mrs. Lovett had earlier. The kiss only lasted a fraction of a second, but it was enough to make him embarrassed. "W-well, good night," he said and practically fled up the stairs to his own room, not wanting to think about it any more.

As they reached the landing in front of Edward's room, Mister Todd opened the door for Edward and then did something that left Edward speechless. He pushed some of Edward's hair out of the way and kissed him, right where Mrs. Lovett had earlier. This kiss lasted a fraction of the time hers had, but…

It left Edward with not only color in his face, but a good deal of it. Breathless, he turned and went into his room. As soon as the door closed, he let out the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. Somehow… This felt much less prevalent then Mister Todd had led him to believe… In fact, to Edward at least… It was the closest his heart had ever gotten to stopping. And once it beat again, there was something different about the pulse. Wide eyed and actually blushing now, he was frozen where he stood.


End file.
